Lunch At Mirkwood
by shadow6116
Summary: Thranduil, feeling nice, feeds the dwarves more than usual. The food isn't exactly what you'd call conventional though. Oneshot.


Every second spent in this Mahal-forsaken dungeon was driving Thorin crazy.

It was not just the sense that Durin's Day would soon be upon them, not just the anxiety of waiting for Bilbo to finally show up and wondering just what his escape plan would be, but the knowledge that he was being held prisoner by the dishonorable, traitorous Thranduil!

He gripped the bars, wondering if he should try and steal some metal bits from the guards the next time they came around to give the dwarves food, and then start digging a tunnel out of his cell. To be honest the thought of damaging Thranduil's palace made Thorin smile a little. Maybe he'd be lucky and the guards would bring something other than cheese and bread, like food that required a spoon to eat.

The chatter and sound of steps down the hall signaled that the guards were making their rounds for the day. Strangely it sounded like there were more people coming this time around.

Then Thranduil himself came into sight. Thorin growled. "What are you doing here?"

Thranduil was smirking. "I was thinking about our talk earlier, and I thought that perhaps I should be more charitable towards mortals. And since my hunters were especially lucky today, you'll get to partake in a true Silvan feast."

He stepped aside, showing off the whole entourage of guards and servants carrying platters and tureens. There were even bowls of stew and various sauces. All of the dishes had an unfamiliar scent wafting from them. The other dwarves cheered and Thorin's own belly growled. Some of the elves were handing tools to the dwarves; mallets and what looked like metal tongs. Thorin turned them over in his hands, wondering just what they were for.

Then the tureens were uncovered and Thorin promptly felt his appetite disappear.

Steaming giant spiders, shimmering blue with purple spots, were in them. Their milky-white eyes seemed to be staring right at Thorin. He could hear the other dwarves' noises of disgust.

"My apologies that we didn't bring the bigger ones, but the rest of my people need to eat too."

Thorin slowly turned towards Thranduil, whose eyes had a mischievous glint that made Thorin's anger towards him ten times more potent. "I know why you're here," he said in a low voice, glaring up at the elf, "And I'm not going to give you what you want."

Thranduil cocked his head, that infuriating spark still in his eyes. "What are you talking about? I'm here to help my servants show you naugrim how to eat spider properly, and make sure you don't try to smuggle away our provided tools." There was a brief scuffle between a guard and Nori when he tried to hide some tongs in his coat. "Case in point."

More dishes were incoming. Thranduil took one new tureen and uncovered it, showing it clearly to Thorin. It was filled with regular-sized spiders in some kind of sauce, and Thorin tried to keep his face neutral. Thranduil plucked one spider from it. "A true delicacy, fit for a _king_ if I must say. They're cooked live, so they're the sweetest." He put the whole spider into his mouth, crunching loudly. Then he grinned, baring his teeth in such a way that Thorin could see the remains of the spider caught in them.

"You're twisted. As twisted as your accursed woods." Thorin said in a soft voice.

"This was your first clue?"

The look on Thorin's face made Thranduil's grin wider, and some of the other elves chuckled. Thranduil offered the dish of spiders again, and Thorin shook his head, looking past him to see how the rest of the Company was doing.

The elves were showing the dwarves how to crack each part of the spider open and pull out the white meat inside. Bombur was simply shoveling everything he was offered into his mouth, though he did take a lot of gulps of water. The other dwarves were more reluctant, taking the other dishes over the whole spiders first. Ori had a small spoonful of spider stew, then his eyes lit up and he had more. Balin was having some rolls of the white meat. Fili took a strip of leg meat, and dipped it into some sauce before biting into it. "Hey, this isn't half-bad!" he said, "You should try some uncle!"

Thorin looked back at Thranduil, who had just taken a goblet of wine from a servant. At Thorin's look, he shrugged. "Sorry, but I'm not feeling _that_ charitable."

"Just give me a giant spider and some sauce already."

"If you insist."

A servant opened the door and handed him a sauce bowl and a plate that the spider covered entirely, and shut the door before Thorin could take his chance to punch the Elvenking in the gut. Thorin stared down at the spider, telling himself that he absolutely wasn't feeling any nausea and that a stomach that needed filling was top priority because it wouldn't do to have a King Under The Mountain who was just skin and bones.

Thranduil was having a giant spider himself, breaking open the body shell and eating the meat with a fork, while wiping off some yellow greasy stuff that Thorin did not ask about. "Removing the venom glands properly is something of a rite of passage for my cooks," he said in between mouthfuls, "since the venom isn't affected by cooking, but the head is one of the most delectable parts. Ai, I have seen elves perish from being bitten, convulsing and unable to even breathe in their final hours. But there is something satisfying in taking revenge on these foul creatures like this, eating them as they would eat us. There's no sense in letting resources go to waste in hard times; we even use the venom for our weapons." He paused in his rambling to look at Thorin. "You still haven't touched your food."

Thorin was silently glowering at the elf, gripping the mallet tightly, wishing that the elf would bend down so that he could forcefully introduce it to the other's jaw.

"Why don't you pretend that the spider is my head if that'll get you to finally eat? You certainly look as though that would make you feel better."

As loath as Thorin was to follow a suggestion from the Elvenking, that sounded like a good idea. He visualized the mad elf's head in place of the spider and promptly began to pulverize it, imagining that every blow was messing up the elf's precious pretty face. Very soon the spider was a pile of mush.

He tore off some meat and dipped it into some sauce before gingerly biting into it. Fili was right, spider was good. It was mild, almost sweet.

Thranduil watched Thorin eat, an inscrutable smile on his face. He raised his goblet in a mock toast. "Now that wasn't so hard was it?"

He dodged the leg shell Thorin threw at his head, and chuckled as he sipped from his wine. The dwarves continued to eat, simply glad that they were getting something richer to eat for once, even if it was unconventional.


End file.
